GEORGE TALES - THE SCROUNGER
By Wilton Strickland, Lt Col, USAF (Ret)
We had many buildings on base that were built during WWII and were now
condemned, sold to salvagers or awaiting being burned by our fire department
for training exercises. I examined three of the buildings to be burned and
realized that I could easily remove certain 2 x 6 and 2 x 8 beams without
rendering the buildings unsafe for the fire department's exercises, so I
obtained proper written permission from the base commander to remove
elements from certain buildings "of no further value to the Air Force."
Often, on late afternoons or Saturday mornings, then, I'd pull my van up
to one of the condemned buildings and go in with my step ladder, crow bar
and hammer and take some of the building parts, load up my bounty and drive
away without anybody ever questioning my actions. One of the buildings was
directly and immediately beside Security Police Headquarters, and a small
wooden bridge I dismantled and hauled away was less than half a block
directly in front of the police building. I was surprised that nobody was
ever curious enough to confront me. Maybe they recognized the van or me and
assumed that it must be okay (which it was), but I never had to show the
commander's letter. This does not mean that the dismantling and hauling
went completely unobserved, however.
Late one afternoon and early evening, I had partially dismantled the
bridge and most of the long beams were loaded onto my '74 Plymouth van with
several feet of each protruding out the back of the van. I had attached a
red flag and red reflector on the end of one of the beams to improve their
visibility for the night trip to our cabin 35 miles away in the San Gabriel
Mountains, where I planned to use the beams in the building of a deck.
Almost immediately after I exited the base onto the main highway for the
trip to the cabin, flashing blue lights of a CHP cruiser were behind me. I
pulled over, thinking the officer was going to jump me for having the beams
protruding so far out the back or not having a light on them or question why
I was leaving the base loaded with such beams, especially at night. He
asked for my license and registration, which I immediately presented, of
course. He glanced at them, handed them back and said, "Sorry to have
bothered you, Sir. Have a nice evening." I put my license back in my
wallet, threw the registration card on the engine cover by my right leg and
proceeded on my trip. A couple of days later, I picked up the
registration card and, as I started to put it back in the glove compartment,
I noticed that the card was for a '64 Dodge van that I had traded a couple
of years before for the '76 Plymouth van that I was driving!!! The CHP
officer never noticed the difference, and I never knew why he had stopped
me.
I also salvaged several nice 2 X 12's that had served as overhead bullet
baffles at an outdoor firing range no longer in use. Many of the beams
downrange had bullets in them, but those from near the firing line were
bullet-free. I ripped these 2 X 12's down the middle to make 2 X 6's
rafters for a new outbuilding at the cabin.
We also had a contract to completely refurbish a significant number of
base living quarters/houses, including "gutting" and rebuilding the
interiors. Late one afternoon, I drove through the project area and
observed many stacks of used 2 X 4 studs lying outside the houses. They had
been in the houses for at least 30 years and were dry, straight and would be
very serviceable after removing the nails. The next day, I asked the
contractor what he planned to do with them. He replied that he'd probably
have to give them away or burn them, "Nobody wants to bother with removing
the nails to reuse them." I asked if I could have some of them, to which he
replied, "Please take all you want. It'll certainly save me the bother of
getting rid of them."
Late that afternoon, I took my two teenage sons to help me load the van
with the studs. The boys were terribly embarrassed that a friend might see
them helping Dad scrounge salvaged material. I told them, "Your friends are
not even near this area, so don't be concerned about it, and think about
this. For every stud you put in the van, that's 50 cents we're getting for
nothing." Over a few days we filled the van with several loads of the
studs.
I also salvaged enough kitchen cabinets from the housing project to build a
nice, modern kitchen in the cabin. 'Also used some of the cabinets for
storage space and a work bench in the new outbuilding.
The 20 X 16 outbuilding was built mostly of materials salvaged from the
base. The only things I had to buy for the building were concrete for the
floor, roof covering, cedar shingles for siding to match the house, nails
and electrical wiring and fixtures, 'Even scrounged a couple of windows and
a door from the condemned buildings on base to use in the new building.
The salvaged materials were also used to build a "mezzanine" or balcony
above half of the large, first floor, main, central room of the cabin which
had a vaulted ceiling open to the underside of the roof. One of the beams,
6 X 10 heart, Southern yellow pine, from the bridge worked perfectly to span
the open space and provide the main support for the outer edge of the
"mezzanine." This space greatly enhanced our use and enjoyment of the
cabin - only 1000 square feet before the balcony, which added about 200
square feet.
In late '77, as I was preparing for a year in Greenland, we put about
half of our furniture in storage and the rest in the cabin, where my wife
and our two teenage boys lived until they rejoined me at Goldsboro, NC, in
Aug, '79.
In Dec., '77 and Jan, '78, just before leaving for Greenland, I also built a
large deck across half the front and around most of one side of the cabin.
The bridge beams also provided the structural elements for the deck.
While working on the deck, I was working so hard and late, sometime
until 10 PM, SWMBO came to the door several times to beg me to go inside,
"I'm worried about you. You need some rest and sleep."
I replied, "I can rest and sleep when I get to Greenland."
Her response, "Well, it's late; your hammering is keeping the neighbors
awake. Please, come inside."
My reply, "THEY, too, can sleep after I go to Greenland." (Actually,
the houses/cabins near us were occupied by week-enders and were not often
there during the week.)
As a matter of fact, I really was working too long and hard on the
project - never told SWMBO that I had lost some feeling and some control of
my right arm from so much hammering, and several times I was unable to stand
because my legs were so tired, my knees collapsed. I was literally crawling
around on the deck and learned to hammer with my left hand. The feeling and
complete control of the arm slowly returned to normal after a few weeks in
Greenland, and I've never told anybody else about it until now.
'Had a bit of a hassle with the San Bernardino County building inspector
just two days before I was to leave for Greenland. According to him,
everything was satisfactory with the deck except height of the railing,
which was at 36 inches. He insisted it had to be at 42 inches.
I told him I had never seen nor heard such, "All I've ever known is 36
inches for deck rail height."
He replied, "No, it has to be at 42. What people usually do in a case
like this is to add a planter box or something like that on top of the rail
to make it 42."
I replied, "Well, just write me a ticket, take it to court or do
whatever you have to do, but I'm leaving for a year in Greenland in two
days, and that railing is going to be at 36 inches."
He also wrote me up for not having the grounding conductors in the
outbuilding wiring system "mechanically" connected to each receptacle and
switch box (all metal then). I responded, "They're mechanically connected
to each box by a screw. What's wrong with that?"
He answered, "Mechanically" means connected under a little clip that
clips to the side of the box with the wire pushed up under it."
I replied that, "It seems to me that the screw attached securely to the
box is a better electrical connection than a clip, but okay, I'll fix that
whenever I can get back from Greenland." (As it turned out, I was able to
get back for couple of days in mid-April, and installed the clips.)
As for the deck rail height, as soon as the inspector left, I stepped
inside the cabin and exclaimed to SWMBO, "Guess what the fool inspector just
told me about the deck railing. He says it has to be at 42 inches. He's
crazy as Hell!! I told 'im to take me to court, it's going to be 36!"
I was standing immediately inside the front door with my back to it as
I made the comment about the "crazy fool" when there was a knock at the
door. I opened it to see the inspector standing there holding the code book
in his hand and saying, "I'm terribly sorry, Sir. You're right. The rail
is supposed to be at 36 inches. Let me have the tick for a minute. I'll
correct it."
Wilton
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